Draping the glove over my shoulder, I brandish my now bare left arm with showgirl flair. I caress my arm from wrist to elbow, raising my hand toward my face, and freeze.

The audience stills, as though everyone in the room is holding their breath. A slow smile spreads across my face. Moments like this remind me I’m more than “Kitten Caboodle.” I’m more than a tattered reputation at a design firm, a crushed dream, or the only person in an office who bothered to use Google Translate to work a fancy espresso maker.

I twinkle my newly exposed fingers with a grin, and the audience thunders with applause.

I’m Elizabeth Bennet. And I’m invincible.

CHAPTER

9

I exit the stage vibrating from the excitement. Darlene gestures toward me from the bar with a flute of bubbles. I walk toward her, still quaking, and smile at the shouts of support as I skirt the crowd.

“Well done!” Darlene passes me the glass.

My hand shakes so violently the liquid threatens to spill. I take a long pull from the rim. The sweet effervescence pairs wonderfully with my giddiness. Through the buzzing in my ears, I make out Johnny introducing Sola. The performer leaps through the curtains like a starburst in her rhinestone-studded flight suit, and Darlene regales me with the tale of the treacherous zipper.

My heart rate slowly gets back to normal, and I cheer along with Sola’s peel. After the reveal, which leaves Sola in coordinating American flag pasties and G-string, Darlene excuses herself and sneaks backstage to prep for her own number.

I spot Ming and Charles on the other side of the room. They’re in the center of a row, so I take a seat at an empty high-top along the far wall. I holler as Johnny introduces Jewbilee, whose routine is a tribute to the women’s baseball league. Darlene’s medic-themed peel follows, leaving the stage littered with yards of bandage wrapping for the kitten to sweep up. Then it’s Jane’s turn.

The song starts with the same big-band flair from Johnny’s opener, and I don’t recognize the tune until Jane croons, “It had to be you.” His singing is more subdued than I’d have expected from the intro, and there’s something about his delivery I can’t pin down. I cross my arms, trying to place the vibe. It’s more direct, almost focused. The energy builds as he infuses more feeling into each word, until each lyric is bursting with—

My heart squeezes. It’s joy.